What better an intro to the forums than a good old fashioned story from the good old fashioned vault. < snip >

The Midnight Bell

The bell of midnight rang across the hollowed city; a crash of a bullet mimicked the flow of sound, echoing upon empty walkways, shattering such peaceful silence with the tower's twelfth crash. Upon the final moment that cleared the day, a broken blade found its home across a lone assailant's chest, eyes widened with disbelief, words trying to form themselves upon his lips, trying.

Deathseeker, self proclaimed title as it were, held perfectly of the moment. The name moved my lips for the final moment, blood trickling down my side, a final swear marking the end of my speech, but such words held feeble attempts to the least of sanity, as this were. But only my voice had ended, everything else had held perfect sync, almost of in a way did my soul choose to remain, defying all choices of the divine and desecrate, but perhaps heaven and hell does reject my essence.

I shook my head of such thoughts, sanity as it was fading and such notions did not help, a man with his final hours counted, taking each step in the manner of a new born taking its first steps across the floor rug of a living room. I could still feel the slug that made its home in my head; felt the first to go was my jaw, my tongue, my speech. Such irony, an omoidasu without his instrument, a playstation without a controller, but such was the way it was, and such a time was not proper to tell the tale.

Give me a reason, anything, to explain what was happening at this moment. Adrenaline, some form of mysticism, a new drug, it doesn't really matter. Force of will, I would prefer, but call it what you will, even upon these moments where normal men would fall, I stood, yet I wasn't foolish enough to believe that I would still be standing for long.

Blood spilled slowly, trickled upon a few steps, crashing with a hollow splash at my path; my breathing though remained unfettered, eyes unfazed upon the midnight moonlight. Lumination of the roads made my tracks all the more obvious, but it didn't matter anymore. The gaze of stragglers meant nothing with a bullet throbbing in your head.

There it was, the second home, sanctuary when drunk in the middle of the night. If only my lips could have moved, were I to speak of it, a home away from home, 'Outer Haven…' A weekend sunfall meant the perfect opportunity to hang around the shop, play a couple of rounds and just hang around laughing.

The buzz was led by the sound of bullets whizzing past your ear, and in contradiction to what everyone else had enjoyed, Call of Duty 2 was the order of this evening, and even through the blur of blood between by eyes and the smoke grenades from the bright flash of a heavy screen, I still managed to frag a couple of the bastards I have the pleasure of calling friends.

The crowds had settled down upon the tip of the sun reaching the horizon and once again we sat around the counter, swapping tales of long ago, such laughter and thoughts numbed the pain for all that it was. They knew indeed of this predicament in me, but in truth of a true friend, such final moments were not shared in sorrow and agony but in our own way, utter bliss of green jokes and foolishness that seemed to never end.

Sun-up pushed the darkness away, and though the crescent moon still reflected across the skies, it was a time to go home. A morning beyond compare, I watched the sunrise from crimson shades that made it only the more beautiful in a sinister way, in such manner as my eyes could never leave until the sun had blinded my eyes in full. My lips barely moved, enough though to accommodate a smoke, a match light that struck with my heavy step.

Blood flowed slow, trickled upon a few steps, then dropped a hollow splash; my breath though was only a soft pant, barely even one as I had reached my doorstep, throwing the smoke out upon the curb before making my way in, keys making that familiar sound of cling that marked my passage.

They were all there, the entire family, father home from being away for so long, semester break of sister and both brothers off upon this day on work, around the table with mother settling a heavy spread, as if the feast was prepared for me. If only people knew that this was how it was each time we were all together, that this was not usual, that such love was never wasted for later, but this was the final moment. My father nodded, and so did everyone else; knowing that what I was doing, what I have done, what I did, would get me killed, but it was my choice, and I was more of a son, more of a brother for returning home in final breath.

I couldn't eat, my mouth held shut, but the food was only half of the fun as talks of everyday life, of school and work and all the idiocy in between filled the house, and it has become as it always has been, a home. I thought I could die at the very moment, but there was still a final thing that was to be.

The afternoon sun beat down heavily upon me as I took my path, my steps a bit dragging upon this moment, my eyes dimmed and blurred though I still held them high, enough not to stumble. This motion was my final desires; I always have hated being dependent, even upon vehicles, but that was simply me.

Blood ran slowly, plopped upon a few steps, then dropped a hollow splash; my breath was heavy now, slow and panting, trying to keep as much sense of it all. I was going mad, but perhaps this madness made me live, even through the pain of a shot that inched its way all the more deeper into my brain.

My planned final destination, the balcony of a friend's house, to remember the times we had been drunk out in the cold, of the times I've pissed on his bed without knowing it after drinking heavily for one evening, after playing hours upon hours of guitar hero, here we were again. Though knowledge of my predicament still bothered around, it was not a thought for now, as of the moment, it was just two bottles of Matador, a pitcher of Extra Joss and a warm Playstation 2 booting up Guitar Hero.

All around, stories and tales of moronic disputes and laughter echoed upon the cliffside of the balcony, the heavy smoke that rushed upon the heavens, though I was not able to voice out, such words were not need among friends, even through all the crimson that covered my sight, it was all as it should be.

My thoughts had wished the evening ended, but an itch just beside the bullet wound upon my head wouldn't stop, my steps upon the road once again taking me to a path that only my feet knew. Perhaps, aimless as it was, it was to take my own life before the bullet could.

Blood rushed slowly, drizzled upon a few steps, then tapped a hollow splash; my breath now of a man that had ran up the mountains of northern Cordillera without even a stop. I was mad now as shapes and images upon the now settled sun created the eerie shadows upon the roads and building, but it was not the reason to why my steps suddenly ceased.

Another day is done and she is standing there, her eyes fixed on me in a solitary stare. I've seen it in her eyes for so many times before and yet I could not piece together the puzzle, and upon now, perhaps of distance and that such reflections of love were never truly fulfilled; simply in fact that I never wished to see her, not in this moment, not in this state.

The setting sun moved over us, encompassing our forms in its warm embrace as we stared at each other, unmoving, in silence that could turn the dead upon their tails in horror.

Blood trickled slowly; my breath heavy and hollow, my eyes dimmed to a dark maroon, my last sight of her face, an agony that I did not wish to bear. About to turn on my feet, and with my eyes stared away, my muscle was stunned, my mind not moving anymore, feeling her hand upon mine, a touch I couldn't bear yet I never wished to lose.

Ayano…

My voice finally found its words, its final home, and its ending symphony with the rush of silence the moved over the city, the hours passing quickly with our hands intertwined. It hit me, similar to another bullet that passed quickly across my head, the final moment where I had nothing left to lose.

Bloodied as I was, I turned her form, moving her close to me in a gentle rush of motion, intertwined hands moving to an embrace. Indeed she was someone else's, but that didn't matter, that was not what was important, her warmth as if a home in my arms, but such a moment was not the jist. My head moved closer to hers, slow movement that seemed only to fall with the quick inch of the slug that had found its home in my brain, and even though of this motion that blurred across the senses, her lips met mine quicker than upon the moment my head could fall.

Our lips had locked themselves in a promise that was never fulfilled, eyes moving to a full close with eternity that passed upon that small moment our lips touched, a first and final kiss.

Her voice moved through my head, the final thing that I could hear before my ears had given up on me, another inch into my brain did the shot run, "You asked me to make a choice…" the voice was sorrowed, but in truth, the tone had forced itself to lighten, an answer to a promise never known, "Under that fall sun… Iesu… When you told me…"

I shook my head; my eyes now had given up on me as I remained in her arms, she had spoken of other things, but the final kiss had said it all. My hand moved upon her face, her lips as the word formed itself upon my lips, barely a voice, only a breath upon her ear.

Smile…

It was forced, but it was beautiful, my fingers feeling the curl of her lips through the blur of warm tears that rushed upon her cheeks, the last image that played upon my mind.

The bell of midnight rang across the hollowed city, breaking the silence that I could never hear, and in her arms, the sweetness of her smile and the warmth of her embrace did the bullet's journey end, and in her arms did my last moment find unending bliss.

Omoidasu – Literally translated – "rememberer" – similar to a street storyteller or of a similar sort